


All Aeons Mix

by ShySpaceBoy



Category: Gravity Falls, Over the Garden Wall (Cartoon & Comics)
Genre: Aged-Up Character(s), Anxiety Disorder, Communication, Dipper is a paranormal investigator, Dogs, Domestic Fluff, Established Relationship, Her name is Josie, I don't really know what else to tag but uh, Implied/Referenced Animal Death, Light Angst, Living Together, M/M, Marriage, Poetry, They have a dog!!!!!!, Wirt is an Author, actually a lot happier than it sounds, alcohol mention, both of them are implied to have anxiety so i'll throw that in there, discussion of trauma, feelings. lots of feelings, guys. guys theyre married, idk good stuff y'all, idk what happened man but im glad i got here, magic shenanigans, pinescone, really flowery writing like more than usual, sort of vent bc everything i write is vent to some degree but it grew a plot lol, t for death stuff and because i'm sure i swear somewhere in there, this ended up twice as long as i thought it would be so here we go, title from an oscar wilde poem
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-12
Updated: 2020-11-12
Packaged: 2021-03-10 04:22:07
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 9,087
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27518320
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ShySpaceBoy/pseuds/ShySpaceBoy
Summary: A glimpse into the married life of two atypical sorts of people, and what it means to keep moving along.
Relationships: Dipper Pines/Wirt (Over the Garden Wall), Pacifica Northwest/Mabel Pines
Comments: 4
Kudos: 16





	All Aeons Mix

**Author's Note:**

> “We are resolved into the supreme air,  
> We are made one with what we touch and see,  
> With our heart's blood each crimson sun is fair,  
> With our young lives each spring-impassioned tree  
> Flames into green, the wildest beasts that range  
> The moor our kinsmen are, all life is one, and all is change.”
> 
> -We Are Made One with What We Touch and See, Oscar Wilde.

As much as Wirt loved his writing, he loved just as much when his time to write came to an end. 

The magnificent clockwork of the solar system was his alarm each day, sending rays of gold through the decoratively patterned glass window panes adorning the walls of his study. It was like the sun itself was taking a knee, whispering through the horizon a gentle reminder that his work was done. He leaned back in his chair, watching the light filter through onto the pages laid out before him. He breathed deeply in the serenity of it, somewhat basking in the favorable, cozy scene he found himself in. Another day of the work he loved in a home that was his, accompanied by a sweet little dog companion who was dozing on the rug behind him. Even if he were posed a wish, a promise for any one thing on earth from a boundlessly powerful entity, he could not even think to ask for more. In all honesty, he’d probably just ask for the hinges on the back door not to squeak so much. He did plan to get around to fixing that himself though, he'd promised.

As the sun started to sink fully out of view, he got a text, as usual, that Dipper was on his way back. He let his pen roll out of his hand and onto the floor as he swiveled his chair to grab his phone, which had been resting on his table beside his desk. He was probably a little too eager to stop working, considering he’d really just been zoning out for the past twenty minutes or so, and had planned for this next batch of revisions to be done already- but he just couldn’t help himself. The longest stretch of the day he spent alone was that time between lunch and sundown where Dipper was off investigating, and the simple routine knowledge that his beloved was to return come dusk warmed his heart without fail. A hopeless romantic to the core, and eager for human contact after a long afternoon of work and solitude. It was a comfortable sort of longing that really wasn’t so bad at all. 

He stood for possibly the first time in hours, stretching the stiffness out of his back. Josie stirred behind him, her little tawny ears perked his way. He kneeled and reached out to pat her head, and checked the eagerly awaited message on his phone’s home screen. 

**[Dearest: omw back now sorry it took so long]**

**[Don't worry about it babe. You’re right on time. Can’t wait to see you. <3]** He replied quickly, ready to throw his phone onto his desk and finally close the book on his work for today.

Instead he got another text. 

He fumbled with his phone for a moment, almost dropping it. He adjusted the reading glasses that had nearly just flown off his nose and squinted at the screen again. Josie decided she needed to see what was going on too, sticking her nose in front of his face. 

“One sec, girl.” He assured her, shifting his phone to his other hand. 

**[Dearest: me too. long day. still a little way from home actually but]**

Another message popped up before he finished reading the first one. 

**[Dearest: idk i just wanted to text you]**

That was a little odd. Dipper was the kind of person who rushed everywhere he went, regardless of actual urgency; Any other day he’d be breaking down the door the second the sun touched the horizon to tell Wirt about his day, specifically in person. He hesitated. After a cautious moment of waiting to see if Dipper will elaborate on his own, he typed back. 

**[Just tiring, or bad?]**

Dipper responded instantly. 

**[Dearest: i'll explain when I get home i think]**

Wirt sighed. Something was off, for sure. He stood and took a moment to at least somewhat clear the various papers and halfway-dead pens that managed to sprawl all the way from his desk onto his bed before heading down the hall, Josie padding along at his heels. 

**[Alright love. Let me know when you’re here.]** He sent back, ambling down the creaky wood staircase to the rest of the house. He got a short reply.

 **[Dearest: <3]**

With a tiny, worried smile he pocketed his phone, keeping the ringer on in case of more messages. None more came after that. 

Wirt didn’t usually wait for him at the door in advance like this. He’d come down to meet him in the doorway as he arrived sometimes; or, more often than not, Dipper would surprise him and just barge into his study unannounced, gushing about a creature he saw or complaining about some magical something or other that proved to be a pain in the ass that day. He knew Dipper well though, and something was obviously off. Regardless of circumstances, a warm welcome home would undoubtedly ease him, at least a fraction, he figured. 

He made his way into the kitchen and put the kettle on for some tea, trying not to steal too many worried glances out the window at the darkening amber sky. He twisted his silver wedding band around its place on his finger, tracing the engravings, mind wandering to the sort of things vows and promises were made of. There was a comfort in knowing its complement was safely on the hand of his own compliment, but also an inherent worry. Having something, or someone, to care about was a guarantee to have something to worry about as well.

Wirt was anxious by nature, heart always a touch more akin to that of a hummingbird than a man, but age had granted him a more even head than he was given at birth. He had plenty of tried and true tricks to keep his breathing steady, his pulse normal, his boundless proclivity to worry in check, at least to some degree. Coincidentally, one of them was a cup of hot tea, though he was really only making it in order to seem busy. Despite marrying possibly the biggest worrier in the entire multiverse, Dipper didn’t like being openly fussed over. It often did more to agitate his anxiety further. It’d be a more comforting sight if Wirt just so happened to be at the coffee table upon his return, winding down after his work with some chamomile. It was familiar, it was easy, and it placed no unintentional expectations upon him. 

Despite the essentiality of the support and concern of a loved one, coming home to a worried spouse could unintentionally enflame already wounded feelings. Wirt knew Dipper’s stress-addled mind much better than he did; he was lucid to bear witness to it when the other was blinded by panic. Dipper was an emotional being, despite living by a dogma of logic and skepticism, and under duress he was especially susceptible to withdrawing and self-isolating, bottling up feelings until they become unwieldy. Luckily, creating low-pressure environments was first nature to Wirt, courtesy of his many years experience with his own anxiety (and a steady prescription of fluoxetine). 

It took quite some work to make a house feel like home, and he’d given it his all over the years they lived together. It was truly a feat to create a swelling from the ground up that felt secure, through and through. A sense of pride he didn’t expect to have in his youth accompanied him as he looked over their modest little house. The family photos kept up with novelty magnets on the fridge, the various appliances around the room that were originally housewarming gifts, the subtle touch of embroidery on the blankets and tablecloths they never grew bored of tracing- Keeping a home, a little place where he kept all he treasured safe and close- it was possibly the most mundane accomplishment, and for many just seen as a stage of life, but he couldn’t imagine being more content. This pride he felt welling up in him now, and had felt through every step to build this house into a home, surely couldn’t be the same pride that was a sin. It was much more akin to fondness, fondness and love, the foundation of everything in the world. 

Dipper and his well being was important to Wirt for a truly unlistable amount of reasons, (as evidenced by their seemingly unending wedding vows) and pure, unbridled love and adoration was no small factor. He was that which he treasured and sought to protect in this home, that and their little puppy dog Josie that they raised from a baby. It was what made up the single most important feature of their home, the family they together created, as two lovers and their dog. Through sickness and in health was never a promise he ever worried about breaking. Taking care of each other was what they did. 

Wirt kept an especially sharp eye out for how Dipper’s work treated him. It was absolutely _not_ easy work, and it was with pure certainty that Wirt deemed it entirely thankless. There wasn’t exactly a support group for people like him, though there undoubtedly exist others who deal with the otherworldly as their life’s calling, which complicates things further. 

The only plausible source of camaraderie in the pursuit of supernatural knowledge would be Ford, but his emotional intelligence didn’t exactly get much sharper into his 70’s, and he could be a long ways away at any given time. It was for the better, they’d all agreed a long time ago. Ford was a wanderer by nature, and he had decades of lost time to make up for with his brother. It was best to let them go, explore, have the fun they never could have in youth. They only had so much time left, and besides, the Pines twins were adults now, having grown up right before Stanley and Stanford’s disbelieving eyes. They could handle themselves quite well. It was all the same force, love and family, and some folks you really care about would never be capable of giving a specific kind of support. That was alright, though it wasn't always so convenient. There was always Mabel, though she’s long since moved to Portland, and there was always the old Mystery Shack some miles south from them, and there was always Stanley and Stanford, despite their shortcomings. 

Still, even with all of the family support in the world, Dipper lived a hard life. There was a constantly waning number of individuals in the world who could comprehend what he sees on a daily basis, and even smaller a number of those he can trust. Add in his propensity to work himself half to death and the lack of supernatural investigator’s unions, and you get quite the overwhelming lifestyle. Family was good, and family was nice, but Mabel’s memories from childhood summers were not the same as staring in the face of the unknown and evil every day of your adult life. 

Wirt had a special role in all of this, being both the anchor keeping Dipper steady, and the wind in his sails to propel him onwards after disaster. They complimented each other well. Dipper was a rock for him as well, a ship standing confident against an ambivalent sea, keeping Wirt’s head high and dry above the water. It was that astounding bravery Dipper has that he draws from in times like these, when it’s his turn to face fragility with tenderness and lift him back up with a gentle, understated sort of strength. 

He was halfway through his cup of tea, spinning it in his hands to warm them, when he saw headlights pull up into their dirt driveway. Despite the urge to run outside and immediately evaluate the situation, he stayed put. He instead strained to listen for the telltale creak of the old wooden front door on its aged hinges. 

Accompanied by a harsh gust of air from the outside world, Dipper stepped inside and shut the door sharply behind him. He sighed deeply, shucking off his coat and letting his bag drop with a thud. Wirt quietly rose from his seat beside the window and peeked around the corner towards the front door. 

_Yep, there it is,_ he thought. If it wasn’t already obvious enough, Dipper had the brim of his battered old hat angled low, purposely covering his eyes, and was uncharacteristically silent. Usually he’d be shouting from across the house, regardless of where Wirt was within it, about whatever had been exciting that day- or hadn’t been, and how irritating it had been to deal with. His silence was a siren, setting off an immediate alarm in Wirt’s mind that there’d been something a touch above a mishap. He was relieved that upon further inspection, he found no traces of harm or dishevelment, which was an unfortunately common sight for his husband after he returned for the day. He hadn’t expected the issue to be physical in nature, Dipper was frustratingly nonchalant about pretty major injuries, but he would not have been the slightest bit surprised if some roughness was involved in whatever had put a damper on his day. 

With a rapid clicking of nails on wood, Josie exploded into the room at the sound of the door opening. Dipper truly had to be tongue-tied; he didn’t even have anything to say to Josie. She was often subject to his ramblings when he couldn’t find a willing participant, or at the very least, an enthusiastic hello. Instead, he just patted her head with still-gloved hands, silently. She whined and jumped at his legs the same as ever though, tail wagging a mile a minute. Wirt realized he’d better greet him too. 

Wirt didn’t press him for a hello. He simply stepped into view from the kitchen, and the moment Dipper laid eyes on him, he moved immediately to bring him into a tight hug. The floorboards under the damp welcome mat creaked as he balanced on the balls of his feet to properly reach and nestle into his husband’s shoulder. Wirt’s arms fell in place against the familiar grooves of his back, rubbing soothing circles into his shoulder blades. Josie pushed her nose between the two of them, eyes flickering between their faces. She always felt the need to be included. 

Wirt wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but by the time they let go Josie had laid down. It was one of the small gifts of marriage, the privilege to get lost in another’s arms indefinitely. He needed this, a tactile reminder of their shared bond, just as much as Dipper did. He was relieved to feel the even rise and fall of his chest, relieved to find no tears had graced the corners of his eyes, relieved to simply feel his presence undeniably there, against him. Wirt tended to expect the worst, but he was always more than happy to be proven wrong, and was enough content with simply seeing the face of a lover at the end of a long day. He already knew from that moment that things would be alright. It always was. 

Dipper fidgeted slightly, intending but unwilling to let go just yet. His hold loosened, but he would not look up or step away. 

“Dipper.” Wirt began, softly. He got no response.

“Mason. Are you alright?”

It felt cheap ths pull the first name card, but it usually worked when he was this despondent. He nodded against his shoulder, and Wirt believed him. He just needed a moment to collect himself, he understood that feeling. He lifted himself away, just enough to try and get a peek at his face, and was unsurprised when Dipper continued to cling to him. 

“Are you hungry at all?” He asked, voice light and gentle, hands running up and down his sore back. “Want anything to drink? I made tea.” 

“No.” Came his muffled response. “Actually- could use a drink.” His voice wasn’t especially hoarse or sullen, but underlaid with a distinct exhaustion Wirt was familiar with. He slowly lifted his head from his shoulder, revealing dark bags beneath his bleary, unfocused eyes. 

“Of course. Go upstairs and lay down, I’ll bring you something.”

“You go up.” He said quickly, eyes finally darting to Wirt’s face. He paused, and his expression softened. “I’ll get it. I need to go shower anyway.” 

“Alright.” Wirt lifted his hat, ruffling his tangled hair and giving him a kiss on the forehead. Dipper steadily rose away, the tension beginning to leave his body. “Don’t be afraid to ask me for things if you need.” Wirt reminded him, taking his hands in his. Dipper gripped them tightly, running his thumb over the silver band on his left hand that complimented his own. The tiniest sliver of a smile crept onto his face. 

“Love you.” He murmured. “You always make this easier.” 

“I love you too.” He answered, earnest to the core. 

A sharp whine punctuated the air. The two looked down to see the pleading eyes of their poor dog, in desperate need of attention. 

“You’d better say hello to Josie too,” Wirt teased. “She’s a little mad you didn’t say hi to her first.” 

The darkness in Dipper’s face finally lifted. 

“Where are my manners? How are you doing on this fine evening, miss?” He kneeled down and scratched that little spot behind Josie’s ears, and she nearly bowled him over with excitement. “Don’t worry Jo, I’m so glad to see you too.” 

Wirt rested a hand on the staircase railing, watching the two closely. “I’m heading up. Let me know if you need anything.”

“Thanks babe. Leave the door open, Jo’s probably gonna want to follow you.”

“Of course.” Josie had a bad habit of barging into rooms unannounced, and the old doors of their house often didn’t close right. It was no bother for them really, but could be quite the surprise for whenever they had houseguests. Still, leaving the entryways around the house unblocked was a gesture Josie appreciated. 

Wirt watched for a moment more, searching and scrutinizing every ounce of happiness he could see in Dipper from petting Josie, before reminding himself to save his glances. He had trust in his husband, and his husband had trust in him. If anything was wrong, if there was some unaddressed pressing need, they could count on each other. He let out a breath he didn’t realize he was holding, and disappeared up the steps. 

*

Dipper’s stress had only subsided for a short while, it seemed. After his shower, Wirt could hear him pacing a bit frantically around the hall from their bedroom. It made sense, the shower was probably one of the worst places for those prone to overthinking. For Wirt, either his best writing ideas or deepest anxieties came out in the shower, more often the latter. Both he and Josie listened patiently to the scuttling across the hardwood, up and down the stairs, up and down the hall. When Dipper finally came to their room, the door opened abruptly, startling Josie. The worried quiet of the room was immediately broken, to Wirt’s relief, between Dipper dragging his stuff along and Josie rising from her spot to survey the situation for herself. 

Dipper still had his hat on, ridiculously, over his wet hair. He was shirtless, as he often slept, wearing loose pajama bottoms that had a few too many holes in them. They were short lived though, as he shook them off once he entered, muttering something about how unbearably hot it was upstairs in the summer. Wirt suppressed a laugh at how absurd he looked in briefs and a baseball cap, wet towel slung around his shoulders and hiking equipment spilling from his arms while Josie circled him. Wirt realized he almost looked more naked without the hat than without pants. He’d have to mention it once his mood improved, he’d undoubtedly get a kick out of that. 

That was Dipper, though; he’d been wearing the same sneakers since he was a sophomore in college, the same hat since he was twelve years old, was incapable of taking two trips to carry something upstairs, and Wirt was so in love with him it was absurd. 

He threw the towel, pile of dirty trekking clothes, _and_ the clean clothes he had been planning to wear all to the wayside in one giant pile before placing a can of something by their bedside table. He fiddled with his backpack and plugged in his phone as Wirt picked up the drink he’d been handed and turned it over in his hand to see the label. To his surprise, it was some cheap beer they kept in the basement fridge for large get-togethers, or when the lumberjack games were in town. Not a common choice for either of them, certainly. Wirt especially did not have much of a taste for alcohol in general, but Dipper knew that. It seemed he just grabbed two out of habit, or courtesy in the rare case he wanted one as well. Wirt held it, reflexively polite, the cool metal a nice contrast to the hot tea he had been holding previously. Dipper was right, it _was_ much warmer upstairs.

The second can was still in his husband’s hands, which were now emptied of everything else. He finally took his hat off, hanging it in its spot on the corner of their bed frame, running a hand through his hair and cracking open his beer. Wirt watched in astonishment as he knocked back what had to be at least half the can, before defeatedly throwing himself onto bed beside him. He sighed and gave a sheepish smile to Wirt, not even needing to look at him to know his eyebrows just shot through the ceiling. 

“So… are you going to tell me what that was about?” He asked, with a gentle tone of humor that made him laugh. Dipper’s head fell to his shoulder, and he in turn wrapped an arm around his middle. Josie hopped up and made herself comfortable at the edge of the bed frame, head perfectly in range for Dipper to stroke idly. 

“Yeah, sorry you had to see that. I’m turning into Stan.” He chuckled, a little forcibly, resting his weight into Wirt’s side. 

“Stressed out?” 

“I guess you could say that. Today didn’t go so great.” He picked at the tab of the can.

“Do you want to talk about it? Or just sleep on it?” Wirt offered. It was always best to give choices; not every problem was fixed with talking about it, though that's commonly the case.

“I think I should talk.” He decided, worrying his lower lip. “I actually think I’m going to take tomorrow off.” 

“Oh?” That wasn’t like Dipper. He had more often than not some workaholic tendencies, and Wirt has had to tear him from his work on more than one occasion. 

“Yeah. I need some time before I revisit that spot.” He said, cryptically.

Wirt tried not to frown at his indirectness. “So, what exactly happened? Which spot were you at today?”

“Well, today I was pretty far out East, you know, where those woods get pretty thick going up towards the falls…? I was meaning to check in on that little cervitaur colony there.” He began meekly. “I heard something about a few new fawns being born, and wanted to make sure everything went all right, you know?”

“Oh, were the fawns-“ Wirt hesitated. He needed to watch his tongue; his outlook crossed the border into pessimistic, and he could unintentionally bring up a new worry Dipper hadn’t even considered.

“No, no, they were okay.” He clarified. “Two girls and a boy, all strong and healthy. I saw them playing by the river while I talked to Mowitsh.“

“...Have I met Mowitsh?” Wirt wracked his brain for that name. It was sort of funny; remembering the names of notable tribesmen of various magical species was surprisingly like recalling the name of a coworker’s wife he’d only met once, or an extended cousin from halfway across the country that he hadn’t spoken to since he was a child.

“I’m not sure, actually. He’s the big guy, with the horns…?” Dipper lifted two fingers to his temples, imitating antlers. 

Wirt snorted. “You just described half of all cervitaurs, love.” 

“I mean, he’s got _huge_ horns.” He elaborated, uncurling the rest of his fingers for emphasis. “He’s like, the paternal guardian of their herd. I’d say leader, but that’s not really how they roll. He’s also got the tattoos, on his shoulders, yknow?” Dipper crossed his arms across his chest and placed each hand on its opposite shoulder. Wirt did remember- he was a large and burly creature, with a strong brow and tattoos of handprints on his shoulders. He had quite the unnerving stare, despite the emotion he was trying to convey at any given time. 

“Oh, yes, I have met him.” He recalled. “Intimidating fellow.”

“Yeah, well, they’re a peaceful bunch, at least. There’s just that culture barrier that makes things awkward sometimes.”

“Was there awkwardness today?” Wirt was sort of guessing at this point, but it worked to keep the conversation flowing.

“No, not any more than usual. Just the typical blunt sexual pride he has in fathering so many of the fawns.” Dipper snickered. 

“Can’t be any worse than Minotaurs though, right?” 

“You mean the _Man_ otaurs? Don’t get me started.” Dipper laughed dryly. “But yeah, the colony was alright, the newborns were already up and running, and there weren’t any conflicts really out there. So I came back a ways, because that was really just a pit stop. I had to go to that one little stretch of land that repeats itself if you enter it a certain way.“

“Oh, I _hate_ it there.” Wirt groaned. He had accompanied Dipper out there a few times before, and, who could blame him, had a distaste for unending, labyrinthine, magical forests. Without a partner, one could easily lose their mind trying to navigate that pocket of the woods, which was part of why he’d even stepped foot in there to begin with. With experience Dipper could navigate it alone, but in the early days he came along much more frequently, partially with the ulterior motive of keeping tabs and making sure he’s safe. 

“I know, right? It sucks. Basically though, there’s a lot of strong magical things in there, if you keep walking through so many iterations of the same part of the forest. That feud with the freshwater merfolk and Chutzpah is still raging on, and of course I have to go mediate, so I was looking for a Phoenix to trade with for some feathers.”

“A Phoenix? That’s kind of funny, isn’t it? Like, why would water creatures need a spell from a firebird?” Wirt remarked. 

“Because I opened my big mouth and taught them that phoenix protections exist, and phoenix are easier to find than unicorns,” Dipper griped. “Then they were adamant it was the kind of protection they wanted, otherwise they were going to start being outwardly hostile to wandering Manotaurs that ended up too far upstream, which would absolutely end up in physical fighting. Physical fighting that they’d _lose._ Which would lead to more unnecessary, complicated protections than they’d ever realistically need. So, I go looking and find a Phoenix.” He sighed. “I have to trade some carnelian beads for a single feather, it’s a whole time consuming thing.”

“Did the merfolk pay you, at least?”

“Oh, yeah. Plenty of those iridescent tail scales.”

“The ones that enchant mirrors?”

“Yeah. I had an idea for a gift, since Mabel and Paz’s anniversary is coming up. The spell really wasn’t so bad, it’s just the merfolk who were a little difficult. I had it set up after not too long, and I was going to head into those caves you like with all the gemstones next.”

“I love that place.” Wirt mused. “Once you get used to the giant bats, it’s magnificent. Just… beauty everywhere.” He recalled. It was a memory he wouldn’t soon forget. Glittering walls of color that caught light from the outside, creating a gorgeous natural mosaic. It was a place they found years ago on a trip with Ford and Mabel, the first one Wirt actually went on outside of town. It was their little secret; they’d hide out there as giddy teenagers to steal kisses when no one else was around, way back when they first fell in love. 

“Yeah!” Dipper’s voice lifted into some semblance of cheer, undoubtedly conjuring the same mental image Wirt had, which he regarded as a victory. “I just wanted to stock up on whatever some magical creature might want in a trade. Crystals, some quartz to polish, bioluminescent mushrooms, whatever…” His tone sank again. “But I didn’t get there.”

“No?” 

“I ended up back in the repeating forest.” He half-scoffed. Wirt could tell he so badly wanted to joke about this whole thing, to complain hyperbolically and then forget it ever happened tomorrow, but this was bigger than that, and his unrest bled through into his words. 

“Oh, boy.” Wirt matched his blasé tone, but he could sense this was going nowhere good. 

“It was really just an inconvenience, at first.” He said slowly, playfulness ebbing. “Then it got a little unnerving.”

“Was there anything there?”

“That’s the thing, I’d expect there to be. Each layer has something else- some more secretive gnomes, phoenix, maybe even faeries- but there was nothing, not even like, songbirds. I cycled through for a while, and it was continuously empty. Then the sun was starting to set when I had entered, actually, and every time it repeated it jumped back up in the sky again. Really unsettling.” 

“Why was that? Was there something interfering, or…?” From his albeit limited experience, the forest didn’t trap you inside. You’d absolutely get lost and frustrated, but if you knew your way out, you could get out. 

“Well, yes and no. At first I thought someone hexed me, just to kind of mess with me, but then I thought, oh no, this _has_ to be worse. After so many times a prankster will show themselves and laugh at you, or escalate the joke in some way, but nothing was changing. Either there was a disturbance with the magical properties of the area, or something was hunting me. I started to get paranoid. There’s a lot of shadowy persistence predators out there. I’m sure you’re more than familiar.”

“They just keep following until you don’t feel like running anymore.” Wirt grimaced. “I’m familiar.” 

“Exactly. But I ruled that out pretty fast. Something looking to kill me wouldn’t toy with me for that long. I even stayed still for a while to try and lure it out. Eventually though, I happened upon a grove of trees, most of them fallen sideways.” He paused, fiddling with his fingers. He took another long drink, and decided to Wirt follow suit. 

“Something obviously happened, right?” He continued. “So, I walked up, and they were all kind of fallen in a circle, with their roots torn up. I couldn’t keep moving through them, the ground was torn up and obscured within the circle. I climbed over one, and then another. I was making progress forward, it looked like the sky wasn’t going to repeat again, so I stopped and looked down-” Dipper froze, taking a sudden staggering breath. Wirt immediately steeled a hand on his back. He stared blankly forward for a beat, then closed his eyes. 

“When I looked down, directly below me was a dead unicorn.” He finished grimly, voice a ghost. 

“Oh,” Wirt’s heart dropped. “Oh angel, I’m so sorry.” 

Dipper crumpled against him, once again angling his face away. Wirt could tell he was blinking back tears. He smoothed a hand through his hair and held him close to his side, as close as he comfortably could.

“It’s not a great thing to see.” Dipper choked out, head lowered. 

“I’ll say.” Wirt sympathized. “That’s not a very common thing to see either, is it?” 

“No, it’s really not. It was jarring.” _It was horrible,_ Wirt could practically hear him think. 

“I can imagine.” 

“It was just-“ His head shot back up with a sudden, renewed intensity. “There I was dealing with magic all day, right? You sort of get used to seeing odd things, shocking things, _gruesome_ things… but when I was there, looking at that, all of a sudden I wasn’t in a magical time rift. I wasn’t looking at a supernatural being of higher power. I was in the woods and I found a dead animal. That was that. I felt so small. Vulnerable.”

“So… what did you do? Is there protocol for that kind of situation? I mean, it was a magical creature.” 

“There is none, at least not that I know of. I didn’t really think about being cursed or anything in the moment. I was just, in awe. I left it there, so I’m probably fine, but,” he took a breath. “I can’t stop seeing it. It was… striking. It knocked the wind out of me.” He traced a finger across the stitches in the quilt draped across the edge of their duvet. 

“It really just looked like a horse.” He explained. “It’s horn was intact, so it didn’t seem like foul play, but… it still felt unnatural. All the color was drained from its mane. It was essentially a white horse, flesh blackened by rot, dead as dirt. It was at an awful stage of decomposing, too-“ He choked on his words. “I saw half its skull, it’s ribs... For some reason it looked like, like, it needed help, as stupid as that sounds. Despite the fact it’s dead and gone, there was something desperate looking about it. It didn’t seem at peace. It was eyeless, but it was staring at me, if that makes any sense at all.”

“Yeah, there’s definitely something there.” Wirt agreed. “That was probably the disturbance creating the time skips. Unicorns are integral to that part of the woods, right?”

“Yeah, they are. It’ll be alright though, I think. The numbers of unicorns rarely ever dwindle- they say that the second one dies, another is born. The magic levels will rebalance themselves. The whole thing was just deeply unsettling.”

“Traumatic, I’d say. Especially something so powerful and interconnected with the life of the woods.” Dipper’s hand weaseled its way into his. He pressed a kiss behind his ear, as a sort of acknowledgement. “I do think you should stay home tomorrow. That was a good call.” He urged.

“I mean, some part of me says I really shouldn’t.” Dipper stammered. “I traded away half of what I usually carry for stuff like that, and I dropped a few beads when I was running away from the body, but-“ He huffed out a defeated sigh. “But yeah, you’re right. It was… a lot. All at once.” 

“Darling, your mental health far outweighs the value of some little carnelian beads.” Wirt insisted.

“Amethyst. The ones I dropped there were amethyst.” Dipper corrected, half-heartedly. 

“They could’ve been diamonds. The point is you need to take care of yourself.”

“You’re right. I know that. I still feel guilty.”

“You don’t have to love, not with me. You’ve done nothing that’s deserving of guilt. You just need to get all this off your chest, is all.”

“Off my chest. Yeah. There was also- I had a thought then-“ He blurted, then immediately hesitated. He looked as though he were about to go back on his words, but ultimately decided against it.

“It feels dumb now, but my first thought was of Mabel.” He admitted. “When it happened. I mean. She’s obviously not on good terms with unicorns anymore, but it’s hard to not remember when we were kids. I mean, she had a giant unicorn bedspread when she was around like, eight or nine, right across the room from me. I’m not sure exactly why I thought of her really, it was just an instant association, and then suddenly I couldn’t stop panicking with the thoughts of her and the image of the body so close together. I was frozen for a while- then I turned and kept going. I was out in a few seconds.”

“Wow. That’s… something.”

Quiet descended on the two for a moment. It wasn’t an uncomfortable one. Dipper was breathing deeply and steadily. The clock on the nightstand was ticking softly, and Josie was snoring at the foot of the bed. It was then Dipper’s shoulders relaxed, and would stay that way for the rest of the night. He had reached sanctuary, and it was wrapped in a handmade quilt and encased in wooden walls. 

“I think… I think the forest entrusted you with that. It showed you a vulnerability.” Wirt chose his words carefully when he spoke again. “It could have spit you out, or kept repeating, or done anything really- but it opened and revealed itself to you. It showed you it’s wounds, and sent you home. There’s trust there, I think.”

“...Yeah. I just- I don’t really understand why. At first I thought of it as an accident, stumbling upon the location of a death by chance, but you’re right. The woods wouldn’t show me it if it didn’t want me near a weakness. It’s just… strange. Strange in a morbid sort of way.”

“That’s how communicating with the dead is, I suppose. Everything else is stripped away for a moment, and you’re left shaking and exposed to the most basic feelings of an organism. We’re all the same as dead unicorns, and felled trees, and extinguished souls, just for a moment.”

“Just for a moment.” Dipper echoed, reflective. 

“But now… it’s over. You’re in the world of the living, and you’re not leaving anytime soon.” Wirt assured him. 

“Yeah. Yeah, the forest opening was an acknowledgement, not a threat. Not a rude reminder of morality. Just… understanding. It was a little nod to me that I needed to be still, silent. Respectful, because someone had just left us.”

“That’s a beautiful way to put it.”

“Well,” Dipper swung their clasped hands together, ever so slightly. “I can think of something that describes it.”

“What?”

“‘What’, he says…” Dipper murmurs.

“Oh,” Wirt realizes. “Oh. What specifically do you mean?”

“I thought you hated when I quoted your writing back to you.” 

“I never said that. I just get embarrassed.”

“Modest,” Dipper chided. “I can’t help but think of it. I don’t know how you don’t remember.”

“Well, remind me.”

He breathed deep, searching his mind to remember the words right. “Everything we are, everything everybody is, and those things we all care about together…” He began, slowly. “That's the world.”

Wirt found his eyes drifting open and shut, over to Dipper, over to Josie, floating along the room as he orated, sailing against the words so smooth sounding from his lover’s tongue. 

“Every action and bit of love moves from one person to another, interconnecting everything that ever was into the great tapestry of mankind. Each stitch is a heartbeat, or a breath;” He exhaled, unthinkingly, as the word ‘breath’ left him. “A greeting, an apology, or a final goodbye.” 

It was becoming more familiar. Wirt was remembering where he was when those words left his mind through a pen. Who and what he was thinking of, where his mind then laid. 

“Not only do we affect each other, but we are each other. This isn’t something to fear. ” His voice rose, gaining confidence. “Even a sick seed could grow into a tree that bears fruit. Cold, hard stone can bear moss.”

Wirt hadn’t realized he was crying until a tear fell from his face. He couldn’t even identify what emotion was overwhelming him at this moment. He just felt it, strongly, rising out of the beautiful instrument beside him. Perhaps it was love; It always was love. 

“You can move and change, cut your hair, burn a bridge and change your name,” Dipper was smiling, he could hear it in his words, and it made him smile too. “But you won’t muss up a single thread of the tapestry. You’d just create a new design that flows beside your life, our life… all life.”

The two were speechless for a moment, trembling hands clasped tightly together. 

Wirt laughed, a light, relieved sort of laughter, colored with a kaleidoscope of whirling thoughts and feelings. “You have a fantastic way with words, my darling.” He whispered.

“They’re your words.” He pointed out.

“And yet, they take on a completely new form spoken aloud.” Wirt reflected, breathless. “I don’t know how you remember all that.”

“How could I possibly forget?”

Restfulness descended upon the room. Wirt’s vision was filled with constellations, stars in the window, stars upon his love beside him. His world had been moved, rocked like the gentle sway of a cradle. All was quiet, all was peaceful breathing, all was stillness. It was when the world was still, like this, when the world was also moved. It was then they found themselves lying, sideways across the bed, tangled in each other’s arms.

“Are you feeling better darling?” Wirt whispered against his temple. Dipper turned and smiled, sending shockwaves straight into his soul.

“A lot better. It might take me some time to fall asleep, but otherwise I’ll be alright.”

“I’ll be right here all night.” He assured him.

Dipper’s smile grew, and Wirt thought he might cry again by the way his eyes crinkled. “I don’t know what I’d do without you.”

“Luckily, you’ll never have to find out.” 

*

The next morning, Wirt awoke, arms empty. Dipper had risen with the sun, likely out of reflex. Shuffling downstairs let him know that he hadn’t gone back on his promise to take the day off, however, and his anxiety faded. 

In a split-second decision to leave the bed unmade, Wirt decided it was an off day for him, too.  
He found his way downstairs and into the kitchen, where his husband was currently seated, lazily dressed in yesterday’s tshirt and jeans, a mug of something warm in hand. Wirt shuffled up behind him, draping his arms over his shoulders and planting a hand into his monstrous bedhead. Dipper’s resulting laugh resonated through Wirt’s chest, waking up his sleepy heart. 

“Morning.” He chirped.

“Morning.” Wirt repeated. “Josie gone out yet?”

“She’s out right now. I let her out around eight.” Wirt peeked over Dipper’s shoulder to the watch on his wrist, trying to judge how long ago that might be. He hadn’t checked the time when he got up.

“She’s on the porch?” He guessed.

“Last I checked.”

“Huh.” Wirt paused, eyes flickering out the window. “I don’t see her.”

“What?” Dipper’s calm dissolved instantly, an unmistakable note of panic in his voice. He very much tried to conceal it, but his shoulders had stiffened against Wirt’s chest instantaneously. 

He steadied himself, vigilance being shaken awake at Dipper’s sudden distress. Josie had a propensity to wander, and they both knew that. It was always a good idea to keep sort of a close eye on her, especially in these woods, but she could more than handle herself and rarely got into any real trouble. This was normal, no cause for any particular alarm. Besides, the porch wasn’t her only napping spot. Sometimes she settled around the bend by the flowerbeds in the morning. Out of view was not a cause for alarm.

“I’ll go see if she’s out back.” Wirt rose slowly, allowing his hands to linger on Dipper’s shoulders for a moment longer.  
The moment that light pressure lifted, Dipper bolted upright.. Wirt’s hands flew back onto his shoulders just as quickly, easing him back down into his chair. 

“Mason.” Wirt hummed in his ear. “It’s alright. She’s okay.” 

“Yeah.” His muscles relaxed, just a touch. His voice betrayed a pang of shame at his own excitability. “Yeah. Sorry.” 

“You have nothing to apologize for.” Wirt assured him, firmly and earnestly. “Stay here and take it easy. I’ll be right back with her.” 

Wirt strode out the door, pointedly displaying his cool composure. He was in no rush. There was no rush. He knew Dipper would relax upon seeing his ease. He made sure the screen door didn’t close too loudly behind him, as it often did. He waited for a moment, silently checking to see if Dipper was going to bust down the door after him, but he didn’t.

Scanning the front yard found no sight of Josie, but the dirt path from their front stoop to the rest of the road had been inlaid with little paw prints and fresh leavings that he’d have to clean up later. So, she was fine. The question was now, was she just hiding in the shade somewhere, or had she taken off down the street to play with that mastiff-mix a few doors down? Josie could be quite a troublemaker, going so far as to wander her way into stranger’s yards, if it meant she got a new friend out of it. 

After checking behind the loose board on the bottom step that Josie sometimes hid under, Wirt circled around the side of the house to the backyard. He was glad to notice on his way that none of their flowerbeds on the sides of the house had been mussed up lately. It was unbelievable how much got into their modest little sunflowers, _very_ much including Josie, though usually it was a Gnome looking for a quick but (relatively) classy marriage proposal in the form of a bouquet. He made a mental note to water them later, as he would have plenty of time to do so. 

The clearing behind the house was pretty spacious, which had been a lucky break for them when they bought the place. He hadn’t thought to bring his glasses out, so he had to squint to make out the tiny tan and white figure of Josie. She was a little far away, on the very far edge of the yard over by the tree line that separated grass from forest, but she was undoubtedly there. He whistled for her, but she didn’t move. She was looking at something off in the trees, tail wagging.

“Josie!” He called. “Come here girl!” 

He clapped twice and whistled again, but she continued to ignore him. She was a remarkably smart dog, but with that intelligence came desires, which often meant she would make an independent decision to ignore the commands she very demonstrably understood. Wirt sighed, continuing on to go retrieve her. He had halfway crossed the yard before she actually turned and acknowledged him there.

“Hey Jo!” He hollered. “Come on Joey. You want breakfast?”

She made eye contact with him before turning her head away again, tail raised and ears alert. Yeah, she saw something, and was not so willing to give up her focus. Dogs will be dogs, Wirt supposed. 

Suddenly, she bolted. Wirt swore under his breath and chased after her, past the property line into the first layer of forest behind their house. The last thing they needed was a little chipmunk being dropped lifelessly at their front door. She was a fast dog, but only in short bursts, and Wirt retained a tiny bit of stamina from his track days in high school. There was no way he’d lose her, but he would like to catch her before she catches what she’s chasing, if possible. 

When he caught up to her, he saw she had caught whatever it was she was chasing, to his dismay. He couldn’t see what it was, but she was holding something brownish and roughly the size of his hand in her mouth. He was sure at first it was an animal.

 _“Josie.”_ He groaned. “Come on, drop it.” He pointed downwards at the ground, the hand signal they used when they first trained her. She refused for a moment, but didn’t move away when he moved to grab her collar. The second he was touching her she gave in spat whatever it was onto the forest floor. 

Wirt turned to lead her back home, away from the lump of who knows what on the ground, when something shiny caught his eye. His head whipped back to what he thought was the dead animal Josie had, but upon further inspection it was a small leather bag, tied with something beautiful and opalescent. 

He lifted it carefully, trying to avoid touching the lovely mix of drool, dirt, and pine needles Josie had so courteously covered it in. He loosened the glistening ribbon keeping it closed and took a peek inside, grinning ear to ear when he realized what its contents were. He let go of Josie and rushed back to the house, and she followed practically in lock-step.

“Found Joey.” Wirt announced as he breezed in the front door. “She was in the back.” She trotted over to her water dish and began drinking noisily, and Dipper visibly loosened. 

“Thank god.” He remarked. Wirt guessed it was supposed to be chiding, but it was truly an expression of relief. Wirt had expected him to be jumpy this morning, and he was glad to see that anxiety was only surface level.

“She found something pretty interesting though.” Wirt mentioned, knowingly. Dipper raised an eyebrow. 

“She did?”

“Yep. I think it’s for you, actually.” With a coy smile, Wirt retrieved the pouch from his pocket and slid it across the table. Dipper’s brow furrowed. He ran the ribbon between his fingers, studying it closely. His eyes widened. They shot between Josie, Wirt, and the door.

“Is this-?” He gasped, astonishment written all over his face.

“It gets better. Open it.” 

He slowly overturned the pouch, and something round rolled out and shot across the table. He managed to slap his hand over it before it fell off the side, but several more rolled out after the first. Wirt couldn’t help but laugh as he crouched to help gather the tiny objects that had just scattered onto the floor. 

They managed to gather them all up, Dipper collecting them in his palms and holding them up one by one to get a closer look. Each was the same as the last, a perfectly round, glittering purple bead.

“These… these are the same ones I lost.” He whispered under his breath in amazement. “The exact same. What-”

He interrupted himself and dug his hand back into the pouch, retrieving the final item within- a freshly cut pink rose. He turned it over in his hand, awed and silent. Then he was smiling wide and laughing, squeezing Wirt’s shoulder and shaking him lightly.

“Oh man, Mabel is gonna be so mad!” He cried, waving his hands in excitement as he stood and searched through the cabinets for a vase to put the rose in, depositing the amethyst beads in the pockets of his jeans. 

“I can just hear it now. ‘What the hell do you mean, you got a gift from a unicorn? Why didn’t I ever get a gift from a unicorn?’ Man oh man!” 

Dipper’s sudden burst of joy was contagious. Wirt followed him around the kitchen as he moved, shouting just as excitedly. “I thought she hated unicorns?” 

“Now she’s gonna hate unicorns for sure! Wow!” He found a thin, diamond shaped glass vase they hardly used and filled it with water, putting it in the windowsill above the kitchen sink. He turned to Wirt, a thousand words of gratitude in his eyes.

“Once again, Josie saves the day.” Wirt declared. 

Dipper rolled his eyes, leaning in closer and reaching up to cup his face. A faint blush spread across Wirt’s cheeks beneath his fingertips. Years of marriage hadn’t done a thing to diminish the starstruck feeling that bloomed in his chest every time they were close like this. It just solidified the pride he had in the decision he’d made to stay with this man forever. 

“Thank you.” He murmured, low in his chest.

Wirt laid his hands on top of his. “For what?”

“Do I even need a reason?” 

“I guess not. Thank you too, then.”

“I’d say you don’t have anything to thank me for, but then I’d be contradicting myself, wouldn’t I?” Dipper smirked.

“Isn’t that what people are, huh?” Wirt thought aloud, dreamily. “Just beautiful walking contradictions?”

“Beautiful, important, weird little contradictions.” He agreed, beaming as bright as the stars that make up his namesake. 

“Beautiful.” Wirt echoed faintly, interlacing their fingers.

Dipper kissed him, softly and sweetly, smiling all the while against his lips. Wirt braced his hands against his back and kissed him again, and again. It was so serene, so heavenly in every way that it gave him goosebumps. The windows were open and the world was warm. The sun plodded along its usual arc across the sky, and Josie took a nap out front in it’s rays. They spent the winding hours of a long summer day together, exclusively in the company of each other. Not a moment was wasted, not a single, fleeting second.

The towering pines in all directions stood vigil, watching and protecting, casting shade down onto weaving dirt paths. The forest’s breath was a summer breeze, steadily washing over the town, twirling weather vanes in its wake. It was a comfortable sort of hot outside; somewhere down by a riverbank in the depths of nowhere, a cervitaur fawn splashed and played in the water with his sisters. The merfolk broke water, leaping gloriously over by the rushing water of the falls, tails flashing in the warm sun. There was no feud for the manotaurs on this day, only bonding and the sort of games you can only really have in the summertime. And somewhere on the brink of nowhere, at the far twisting finish of an endless path, a baby unicorn was born beneath a felled tree in the wee hours of the morning. She laid eyes upon the world for the first time, horn raised to the star warmed their earth, day in and day out. For a single, picturesque moment, the powers that be were balanced. 

All was settled, and the woods stood grateful. 

*

**Author's Note:**

> So woah hi there!!! I started writing this as a vent and well, it ended up really long and I ended up loving it. I love both these shows and this ship, and the world always need more positive mlm stories, so here I am. A lot of thought and deliberation went into these two and their relationship, their home, what they're like as adults, etc, etc, so like this might end up branching out into more work just based on the sheer amount of background I developed literally just for this. I set up a deeper narrative than you see here, kind of on accident, so who knows, I might have more stories to tell. Feel free to ask me about little details, they were likely intentional. 
> 
> Also, a few random details I thought I'd share; They live in Oregon, though a little ways from Gravity Falls, sort of on the outskirts, but still close enough for weirdness. Josie is a greyhound-mix and they rescued her as a puppy. Yes her name is a Twin Peaks reference; no, she has nothing to do with that Josie at all, but I'm bad with names and it was the first thing that popped into my head that I liked. They've been married for about two years and living together for five. It's never brought up here, but Wirt's full name is Walter, and the nickname came from Greg mispronouncing his original nickname Walt as a baby. Wirt took the Pines name when they got married and both of them use nicknames way more with each other because it's just what they're both used to. Also yes, "Dearest" is Dipper's name in Wirt's phone because he's a big huge sap. Any other questions you have, fire away! I hope you liked it :D <3
> 
> EDIT: Hey, I just realized I've never plugged my tumblr here! I post art as well as ramble about upcoming writing, if you're interested. Check me out at https://cosmic-connor.tumblr.com/ !


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